


Haav

by AdikaOfMandalore



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdikaOfMandalore/pseuds/AdikaOfMandalore
Summary: Mando'a Mandalorian Writing Challenge hosted by @thegildedquillMy prompt word was "Haav (bed)"
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Kudos: 17





	Haav

One thing you really missed about your old life was your bed. And, moreover, the fact that it was an actual bed, with a mattress, duvets and pillows. Comfortable, warm, big enough for you to turn around during your sleep without the constant fear of falling to the hull floor gnawing at your subconsciousness all night long – or, later on, the worry of hitting against one of the metallic walls surrounding the cot, pressing against it in every corner in a suffocating embrace. You missed the light breeze coming through the window you always forgot to close in the evening, the little table on the left side, where you usually put mugs with what was left of your favourite hot beverage and scented candles and your old holobooks’ reader. Hell, you even missed the slight bouncing and squealing of the rusty springs you so often complained about!

But, as much as you missed your old bed and your back despised your current sleeping arrangements, you knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t have changed a single thing for all the credits in the galaxy. And the reason was a simple one… well, two, actually. And they were presently fast asleep and lightly snoring in the narrow bunk next to the armoury closet.

Din once confided that what he now called your haav, your shared bed, was originally nothing more than a storage room – more of a locker, really – the former owners of the Crest used for brooms, ammunitions, medkits, spare uniforms and whatever couldn’t find a place in the cargo hold itself. It still faintly smelled like one. Of used, of metal, of dirt. But it also held a scent so familiar and warm, so comfortable and homey, that you could fall asleep and stay asleep even during the bumpiest of chases among the stars. (And, those days? They happened more often than not.)

It smelled of Adika’s crayons and the little sweets Din gave her when he thought you weren’t looking, of yours and Din’s body wash, of clean sweat and gunpowder, of cinnamon and wood. And stale air, because, sometimes, the fans filtering it didn’t work properly.

The tiny fairy lights you attached just above your little girl’s makeshift hammock were on, reflecting in myriads of argent white and light blue blinking stars on the bare walls all around, and you stopped for a second to admire the sight, before tiptoeing towards the bunk and, pitching on your toes forward her sleeping form, you left a delicate kiss on her wrinkled forehead. 

She stopped snoring for an instant and smiled in her sleep, reaching instinctively her tiny claws towards your face. You let her rest her palms on your cheeks, before kissing them sweetly and carefully leaning away from her grip. You didn’t want to wake her. 

When you knelt on the far edge of the cot, you saw Din looking at you with dropping eyelids and a small smile curling his scowling lips. Not deep enough to show his dimples, but enough to light up his tired gaze.

«Go back to sleep, love. I’m here, now» you reassured, taking off your socks and pants to get ready for the night. In the deep of space, the Razor was cold, but experience taught you that your “haav” would soon have become a furnace, what with the narrow, sealed space, and your three bodies huddled close together.

«Where’ve you been?» he asked, groggily, curling his legs to his chest so that you could slip in more easily. His broad, long form took up a good half of the space, but he was warm and soft in all the right spots, so you really didn’t mind if you basically had to sleep half sprawled on him – or vice versa.

«'Fresher» you mouthed, before huffing while trying to fit inside the closet, without hitting your head against the hammock of your little child or step on the man now under you.

«We need to get a proper bed, Djarin» you stated, all but dropping at his side after closing the door shut. His only response was a low, sleepy, “mh mh”, and then he was mindlessly shifting to the side to give you more space. And that’s when a clonk resonated in the enclosed space.

«Ouch!Dammit!» You heard him groan under his breath, before he was shuffling to try and touch his injured head, with the only result of getting stuck with one hand above his bare shoulder.

«You okay?» Despite the concern lacing your muttered words, you couldn’t contain the light giggle escaping your parted lips.

«’M getting too old for this» he all but pouted, now trying to free his arm without making too much of a fuss. Adika was sleeping right above you, after all, and neither one of you really had the strength to get up and spend another hour to try and make her fall asleep once again.

«Yeah» you softly agreed, brushing a few curls plastered on his forehead by sleep, before helping him disentangle himself.

«You were supposed to say “no, you’re not”.»

«But that would be a lie. And we built our relationship on a foundation of mutual honesty» you recite with a mischievous glint in your dilated pupils.

«Your silver tongue will bring you nothing but trouble, Djarin» he retorts, pressing a button on the low ceiling and plunging the closet in nearly total darkness. The only source of illumination, the tiny fairy lights curling above you. 

It looked like he was kissed by the stars, their lights gently caressing his profile, and he was so beautiful, like that, with his messy hair now like tendrils of darkness and ink framing the chiselled contours of his face. Everything was grey and blue and dark, indefinite, distant, but you could perfectly see the glint in his eyes and the smile on his mouth. Especially when he slipped closer to you and breathed his stretched grin on your lips, his heart pounding fiercely against yours.

«Is that a promise?» you murmured in the sloppy, drowsy kiss you shared.

«Later – he promised, after one last peck brushing lovingly one corner of your mouth, before circling your waist with his arm, securing your body to his. – This old man needs to sleep, now.»

You shook your head with a silent laughter and pressed closer to him, curling up against his warmth and solidity and falling asleep with the soft feeling of his lips murmuring sweet nothings against your forehead.


End file.
